A Rolling Stone
by WickedWitty
Summary: What would this victorious wizarding world look like to new eyes? This is the story of the days following, told by someone new.
1. Chapter 1

Lila raised her head

Lila raised her head. She blinked in the sunlight of what was once Hogsmeade Village. While the signs on many of the nearby shops were dimmer than she remembered, and while the products in the windows were few and far between, she knew she could only imagine what it had been.

The war had ended four days ago. Four days ago the boy wonder had gone head to head with You-Know-Who and won. It had taken four days for the ministry to finally track her down, but she would have found out eventually. Every wizarding paper in world ran the story. She wasn't here to witness the war ruins, she was here to say goodbye.

She turned where she was, glancing at faces as they walked by her. The gates to Hogwarts stood open. Gates that had always been locked in her years here and even in the years she taught. But now, with witches and wizards from all over the world flocking to the school, it made sense. And in any case, the threat was gone. Finally, the school could rest in peace.

She headed towards the open gate and wondered if there was any way a person could keep her head down and up at the same time. She was praying under her breath that no one would recognize her, but she hated the idea of hiding. That was why she had decided against any disillusionment charms. It just seemed wrong to come to her best friend's funeral in hiding.

She climbed the hill; it felt eerily comfortable to be back here. In the distance she saw her destination.

White chairs had been lined up in the clearing, much like they had been for Dumbledore's funeral. Only these chairs were lined up as far as the eye could see. She saw the students, all dressed in their long black robes. She tried to search for Harry from where she was, but it was futile.

She settled for sitting a few rows back from the students in the most hidden place she could find.

She felt the joy in the wizards around her, but she could not join in. She had separated herself so much from this war, that she could feel no relief in its end. Fleeing to another continent could do that. She now felt fresh raw agony in the death of a friend. And so she could not bring herself to speak to anyone at all.

Suddenly, her neck prickled and she was hit by a feeling of nostalgia. There was something about being here that was making her feel like a student all over again. Suddenly her palms were sweating and she was feeling self-conscious for sitting alone. It was all so ridiculous but she couldn't stop herself from giving her hair and extra fluff. Right after she pulled her hat a bit lower over her eyes.

"Well," she heard from behind her, "who thought we'd be seeing you here?"

She took a breath, and braced herself before turning around.

"Lila Prewett," Minerva McGonagall breathed, "It has been awhile."

She could hardly help herself. She flushed a deep crimson but then she flung her arms around her old teacher. She knew it would be bittersweet coming here, but this was making it worth it.

"Hello Professor," she said, finally stepping back and dropping her arms, "I'm sorry to be back under such grim circumstances."

Minerva gave her a smile which said many sad things, "I never anticipated you would return for anything less."

She glanced at the ground and for a few seconds allowed herself to indulge in her grief. Just as her eyes began prickling, she felt Minerva's hand settle on her arm.

"Now, why are you sitting here alone? You know Molly wouldn't stand for it," she stated with compassion in her voice. As Lila met her eyes, she motioned with her head to the right.

A few yards away she saw the horde of Weasleys. It shook her more than she thought. Molly Weasley, the women she had thought for so long as her second mother was being supported by the arm of her husband. They were chatting with people around them, but there was a noticeable sadness in their eyes. Her children surrounded her in a crowd. She saw the youngest daughter sitting behind the father with her head down. Ron was clutching the hand of a brunette girl.

She knew she had a few seconds before Molly would look her way, and then a few more seconds before she could be recognized. She turned back to Minerva to say a few last words, but before she could get them out she was hit by a red haired bullet around her middle.

Her feet left the ground, and it was all so achingly familiar that a laugh crept out of her.

"Wotcher, Charlie."

After squeezing the life out of her, he placed her on the ground. She tried to fix her hat from where it had toppled and then gave up. She threw the hat on her abandoned chair and smiled up at Charlie. Because she did have to smile up at him, him being a good foot taller than her.

He was holding her at arms length, "Goodness cousin, how long have you been running away?"

She gave him a pout, "That's hardly fair, I had my reasons."

He grinned. It was funny, there was joy there, but pain seemed right below the surface. She remembered about Fred and felt a fresh stab of pain, but kept smiling for Charlie's sake.

"Lila?" she heard Molly's voice, "Arthur look over there! Lila! Oh my goodness, I thought I would never see the day."

Then, turning away from her cousin's smile, she saw her aunt Molly running towards her with tears in her eyes. She allowed the woman to envelope her in her arms, and it was this embrace which rattled her the most. Molly always did see through the façade she put up in front of others.

She pulled back and searched her face, which Lila tried to control. But her aunt's probing eyes wouldn't allow it.

"I am so sorry," Lila tore her eyes away as she felt them welling up, but her aunt's hands grabbed the sides of her face and forced her to meet her eyes, "You are very brave for coming here."

That was all it took, she hugged Molly again so she could allow herself a few tears. Then, before any more words could be exchanged, people began taking their seats and looking towards the stage.

As Molly shuffled off, she grabbed her niece's hand. Charlie grabbed her hat from where she had dropped it, and Arthur offered her a shy smile. The whole group shuffled off to seats a bit closer, and she watched Minerva head in the direction of the stage.

As she settled herself between her aunt and cousin she saw for the first time the focus of the event. A tragically large amount of coffins lay in the early summer sun. They were all pearly white and topped with a picture frame. In each picture frame was the picture of someone who had given their lives in the second war against Voldemort.

In all her twenty-six years, Lila Prewett could never have been prepared for this.

As Kingsley Shacklebolt took to the stage, she allowed her eyes to roam down the row and saw many familiar faces. Then her eyes saw the shaggy head of Remus Lupin and her eyes paused. She took in a face that was far too unfamiliar to her, but she saw what her friend has seen in him. He had a shy smile on his face, and his picture was blinking in the light of the sun.

She took a breath, and finally allowed her eyes to move to the left.

There, smiling about some unknown secret, waving at every face, and changing her hair color every few seconds was her best friend in the world – Nymphadora Tonks.


	2. Chapter 2

She supposed she wasn't in a place to complain.

Regardless of being cold and having a sharp piece of stone was jabbing into her back. And her knee. And her waist. She didn't want to complain about that. She wanted to sit in this cold abandoned corner of the castle and indulge in her grief. She had tried so hard to control it this afternoon. Now it seemed it would not come.

It had not been easy for her to sit in that crowd of people and mourn for those lost. She'd wanted to be sad. She had stared long and hard at the portrait of many of her friends, and it was hard to ignore the emotion in her heart. But the emotion was not purely sadness. Her overwhelming emotion, and now that she was alone she could admit it, had been shame.

She felt shame because she among the congregated had been the one to run away. Now the ultimate cowardice of her move had crippled her. She envied those around her who were able to feel this grief without anything attached. It could be purer for them. They had reason to mourn, yes, but they had also done all they could. There was no black cloud over their heads.

She chuckled, and felt her breath bounce back off the glass of the window so close to her cheek. She couldn't even do this right; she was still letting Tonks down. She didn't want to close her eyes and let the tears fall because she knew she would really be crying for herself. For a friendship so wasted and dirtied, and she the villain who had brought the whole magnificent structure crumbling down.

She heard voices close around her. She huddled closer to the window and hoped the wall would block anyone from stumbling upon her. She knew others were seeking solitude in the castle halls. But with so many mourners could there really be any solitude.

_God_, her inner voice chided her, _I suck at introspection._

She couldn't help it. Despite the pressure building with every passing minute behind her eyes, a slight laugh bubbled out of her.

"That's a sound I haven't heard in a few days," Charlie said from next to her shoulder. Which of course startled her, and at the playful expression on her face she did need to laugh again. This caused a fresh wave of guilt to wash through her. He must have seen her expression contort because he hopped up beside her on the windowsill.

She hadn't expected this and honestly, she didn't quite want him there. She didn't know what he would decide to talk about but she didn't want him to bring up the funeral. She was sure he would have noticed her staring at her hands for most of the ceremony. She couldn't answer most of her own questions, and she doubted she would be able to answer any of his.

She returned her attention to the window, which she noticed for the first time was so dirtied she could barely see out onto the grounds. When she had first come here, she had hid herself in the first unoccupied place she could find, hoping to remove herself from everyone. Hers was the grief which was contorted, and she didn't want to make anyone feel like she was intruding on the moment.

"Well aren't you the celebrity of the day, huh?" he asked though his eyes nor mouth lifted to show he was being jovial. She glanced at him to let him know she had heard, but neglected answer.

A few more minutes passed in silence as the stared at the grounds and he stared at her. It was awkward for her, since she hadn't seen him in so long, but that was Charlie. He always was persistent to the point of annoyance.

"Did you check if you're inscription is still in the bathroom down the hall?" he asked again. She shook her head from side to side and the muscles around her temples clenched a bit. The last thing she needed to think about right now were her years at school. Memories that were soaked from top to bottom with Nymphadora Tonks.

"So, how long until the Quidditch League starts up again, do you reckon?" and she finally turned her gaze to him fully.

"Charlie, I know this may come as a shock considering the wonderful day we've all had, but I don't feel like talking right now," and she was impressed her voice didn't quiver. _Lies_, she thought simultaneously.

He, however, hadn't seen her in a very long time, and didn't notice her lie. Either that or he was giving her the privacy her body language must be begging for. Well, he would give her as much privacy as Charlie Weasley was capable of.

He leaned forward and she cringed a bit on the inside. He wasn't going to leave her alone she supposed, "Come on Lila, clearly I wouldn't bust in here and rain on your pity party. As nuisances go, that's pretty lame. My mom wanted to make sure you weren't jumping out the window or anything."

"Well, its good to know everyone has faith in my emotional stability: she sighed as she redirected her gaze to her lap.

"Why do you keep doing that?" Charlie questioned.

She glanced up at him through her fringe, "Excuse me?"

"You keep looking down. You did it today at the funeral and you've done it several times in the few minutes I've been here," he let her think that over while his concerned eyes roamed her face, "you've never been one to shy away from things."

She did not want to answer that question and she felt she was entitled to ignore it.

Charlie's presence was a reminder of everything she had been conflicted about. She hated his inane ability to bring light to every situation, but she couldn't fault him for it. One, because he would never listen, and two because it was _Charlie_. He was the most impossible human being on the planet.

She finally gave up, she shifted and realized she had been sitting in this position for far too long. She swung her legs over the side of the windowsill and hopped down. She stomped away without looking back, knowing he was following anyway.

"Well come on, I wouldn't want to deny your mother a chance to obsess about how much I weigh."

He gave a weak laugh behind her, and she couldn't help thinking, _yes, I suck at introspection._


End file.
